


Alphα

by avidvampirehunter



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alpha Male Kylo, Alternate Universe, Ancient curses, Bad Boy Ben, Beta Male Hux, Desert Island Fic, F/M, For Sexual Tension and Stuff, Here's that Wolf Fic Ya'll Wanted, Island Romance, Light Angst, No Beastiality!, Orphan Rey, Rated T for Too Hot 5 Me, Rating subject to change, Ren is a tease, Rey in the Wild, Slow Burn, Unless you're into that..., Were-Creatures, Wolf Battles, Wolf Pack, Wolf Pack Stormtroopers, Wolf Phasma, wink wink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 19:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10860861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avidvampirehunter/pseuds/avidvampirehunter
Summary: Reylo AU: Rey, an orphan and stowaway on the Jakku, has been stranded alone on a deserted island. She soon finds that the island is inhabited by ravenous, bloodthirsty wolves who will stop at nothing to ensure their prey stays on the shore. And a mysterious black wolf, the leader of the pack, is the most dangerous of all.*On Hiatus





	1. Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> Rey wakes on the sands of an endless beach only to discover herself alone and in the midst of a shipwreck; Pack leader Ren senses a disturbance on his island.

Rey rose and set an orphan. This much was true, as far and as long as she could remember.

When Rey rose, it was with the fog of London streets. The pungent odor of human fallacies and the cooing of birds wet-winged with dew. She rose with the ever-grey sky and the rain, to the _tik-clap_ of shoes on cobble and not a penny to her name.

But on this day, she rose upon the sand.

Heart galloping in her chest as she remembered the tumultuous waves and the perilous screams, she lifted her heavy body from the wet sand beneath, coming face-to-board with what was once the bow of the _Jakku_. The dark and the rain had been replaced with the bright sun—crashing waves and rolling thunder traded for smooth rolling waters and not a cloud in sight.

Alarmed by the sight of the wreckage, Rey backed away, deeper into the sandbank and farther from the ship, a wild look in her eyes. An ebbing throb echoed in her skull as stumbled to her feet, brushing the coarse sand from her cheek and trekking around the hull of the great vessel. Or, what was left of it.

The ship was split in two, and Rey felt along the jagged edges of the bottom-turned-top. The inside was dark, save for the thin beams of light shining into the glaring emptiness. Voice hoarse, Rey called, “Hello?”

No answer.

She rounded the ship one time, trudging a long way around the mast and close to where the deck stood as straight as she. The stairs became the ceiling, the wheel a chandelier; but the open room was empty. Still, she tried, “Hello?” Canvas masts fluttered in a clam ocean breeze above her; a canopy of cacophonous flapping.

_The ocean. Oh God, the ocean!_

Forsaking the wreckage, Rey threw herself back out on the open sand and surveyed her surroundings. A forest of tall trees loomed over her, and the sea waited patiently behind. Was this the New World? No, it couldn’t have been… they had only just begun their voyage when the storm came. She looked down the beach to the east, where the hot sun rose mercilessly into the sky.

The sands went on forever. In both directions, she found, as she snapped her face to the west. The green met the grain in a sharp clash of color, terrifying her in the stunning clarity that she was alone. Mind racing as fast as her heart, she looked back and forth across the shoreline. The sun would set soon; she needed shelter. Food. Resources.

Summoning her resolve with a few well-placed pants, Rey scrambled back to the open wound of the ship, desperately calling out to the darkness. She felt her way inside, squinting in the low light and running her foot along the floor in search of something. _Anything_. As she ambled blindly in the dark, guided only by the thin beacons shining from outside, the toe of her boot bumped into a hard, fairly large wooden crate. Feeling the edges of the vessel with her shaking hands, she found that the crate was only half her height, but encompassed her wingspan and more than doubled her weight. Whatever lay inside was most definitely useful.

With all her might, she shoved the crate toward the sunlight outside, the small beams guiding her back the way she came. She was almost to the exit when the box refused to move forward, blocked by some invisible object. She felt around the edge, finding some sort of burlap sack. Grabbing it, she struggled to pull it aside. The coarse fabric and incredible weight chafed her hands, and she made a mental note to return for whatever was inside once the crate was safely placed in the sand. She returned to the crate, and pushed until sweat ran along the back of her neck and down her blouse.

With a grunt, she forced the box out into the sunlight. The wind of the ocean swell blew the thin wisps of her loose hair away from her face as she panted softly, grateful for the escape from the dead air of the ship. Then she remembered the burlap sack, waiting patiently in the darkness. As Rey left the crate and came close to the entrance, she looked up over the ragged boards. It would be no good going in and out in the dark, especially if she wanted to get sufficient supplies. Perhaps, if she could create a window, more light would filter into the ship and illuminate her way.

Liking the idea, Rey rounded the corner and found a suitable placement of boards to climb. Inching her way up what used to be the bottom of the _Jakku_ , she found a loose plank. She quickly wiggled her fingers inside and pulled. The plank creaked and moaned as it bent beneath her fingers, and eventually snapped. The force of release was too strong, and Rey let out a yelp as she lost her balance—for a moment. Thinking fast, she grabbed the ridge above her before her body could slide off the ship and into the sand.

Grunting with the effort, she returned to the hole she had made. The sun was still low in the sky, but the hole was large enough to provide much more light. She was just beginning to smile when she looked down into the hull…

…but it didn’t last long.

What was once in darkness came to the light, and what was once in the darkness was the stiff, unmoving body of a deckhand.

Gasping, Rey whirled away, unable to bear the sight. The man in there, she remembered him. He was a servant boy, he had kept her secret. He wore clothes made of... burlap.

 _Dead,_ she thought.  _He's dead..._ How could it have slipped her mind that she might have been the only one to make it out of that storm alive? How long would it be until she was stiff and cold and rotting, too?

She buried her head in her hands, gasping, holding back tears as the tide fell away.

α

The full moon rose out of the waves like a god, watching him, reading his thoughts. The smell of fire slipped into his nostrils, ruffling his fur. _There is something here... something new_.

Silver paws inched out of the undergrowth and glided toward him. He growled without turning to keep her at bay. She smelled it, too.

An intruder had come to the island.

The time for change was upon them.


	2. The Chase

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey ventures into the forest for fresh water; Ren investigates the intrusion of his territory; Rey is discovered by the wolves.

Paws trampled the fields in their usual rounds. Ren kept to the front, his fur rustling in his trek and eyes trained forward. All was peaceful in his forest. Calm. Quiet. The fear of every tree-dweller filled his nose with exhilaration, pounding his heart and further lifting the dust left in his wake. Suddenly, the trees thinned as the meadow came into view. He slowed them with a lift of his flattened ears. Then, all was still, and the pack waited within it.

In the stillness, the earth beneath his pads tremored with the beating of tiny, frightened hearts. Gaze sharp and searching for any movement in the fronds, he flicked his tail. The others obeyed his command, drifting silently through the grass to sniff out the trails of their prey, white coats glimmering in the light of high-sun. Their jaws parted beneath the discomfiting heat of the sun. A darker coat flashed beside him, fur bristled and hackles primed. The beta.

Ren bothered not with the beta, who often fancied challenging him. Instead, he lifted his lip in a brief snarl. It was enough to send him trouncing off in the opposite tree line with nothing but a resentful huff.

When most of the pack found the burrows, the others waited patiently behind the trees. The hearts pounding beneath Ren’s paws beat ever faster; they could smell their own death approaching.

Prey animals were so… underwhelming.

As soon as the thought left him, so too did his prey. A startled hare, an inexperienced youngling, shot out in an attempt to escape. With ease, a silver snout opened to reveal an impressive set of fangs jutting through the air and descending upon its neck. A spurt of fresh blood smeared into her fur, and her temptation to divulge her appetite wafted through the air, stirring a growl within Ren. She knew the rules.

Her bright eyes flickered piteously to his disapproving stare, and, with a head bent low, she let the carcass fall from her jaws and saturate the wind with its fragrance.

Few gusts passed before the pack became restless, stirred into excitement by the scent. Noticing their eagerness and feeling generously impatient himself, Ren leaped forward and began to dig into the burrow before him. Those nearest him followed suit, and the sensitive hair in his ears flickered with the sound of prey seeking desperate escape into the sunlight.

α

She was lucky.

Eight crates. Three dead bodies. Everything else, she believed, must have been lost to the sea.

She spent the first night huddled in the largest box, only after she moved its contents to the sand. The bodies were left in the ship; she refused to stay in the empty vessel until they were properly removed. She had seen dead bodies before, but none were so sickening as these. Among them was the deckhand. _Poe_ , she remembered. He’d dreamt of being a sailor one day—the captain of his own ship. He was kind. Kept her secret and never spoke a word.

He was the only one she knew, and the only one with a marked headstone.

Rey looked over her handiwork; the lumps in the wet, heavy sand beneath shaded trees. She rubbed at the burn on her wrist from wrestling the sails away—the blisters from the dig. There was enough sail to wrap them all and cover their grey and green bodies so that she didn’t have to look at them.

Her muscles and back were sore from dragging the bodies and digging through the sand. She was glad she did not have to use her bare hands. Of the many supplies she managed to scavenge, a garden hoe was among them. She combed the sand from dawn to midday, never stopping once to eat. Was it kindness, burying the dead when there was no one to morn them but her? Was there really such a thing as showing mercy to someone who would never know?

Thinking of death and the fact that there would be no one to bury _her_ filled Rey’s veins with cotton, and the walk back to camp was bursting with its constant, shifting hiss in her ears. She had acknowledged her own death long ago, but at least in the gutter people would pass and eventually take what was left. Pity her. Bury her beneath a silent stone…

… and that would have been her mercy.

α

The smell of fresh blood ran through the den. Hot and pulsating and _alive._

The flesh of hare was always difficult to rip, and the small bones prevented most from enjoying what they could. Daylight sank beneath the cave shadows, casting darkness across white pelts undulating in excited breaths. The thrill of the hunt still throbbed through the air, distracting the others from the deep thoughts circling through Ren’s mind.

The night before, he sensed a presence on his island, and the threat of fire drifted through him—smoke in his snout. The fire had disappeared with the sun, a suspicious happenstance, which only confirmed his reservations. Whatever occurred was not a natural burning, but instigated by something else. Something _new_.

Rising to his paws with shuddering haunches, Ren strode to the cave entrance. The beta approached him just before his discharge, a challenging twitch in his ear. Ren glowered down at him, allowing musk to waft from his tail _. A regular scent-marking. Nothing to concern yourself with_ , he warned.

With a short huff, the beta turned away, dismissively licking at a sinew caught in his fangs. When he disappeared into the darkness, Ren briefly shook the dust from his coat and padded outside—down the rocky cliff face.

The evening frogs cried their endless song, and the gnats bit at his eyes as he neared the creek. As the den faded from view, completely obscured by the trees, he took his nose to the air and drew a deep breath.

Ren detected nothing as he continued, inhaling occasionally to check his surroundings. The night was coming soon, and in the great distance, tides shifted. The moon would be full again tonight.

Leaving his trace along the usual marking spots, he sustained his trek patiently, determined to find the source of the mysterious disturbance before anything _else_ found it first.

α

Perhaps the best crate Rey found was the lightest—as wide as her hips and just as long, filled to the brim with tinder. When she found the stuff, she pressed its soft wool against her face, savoring the idea of warmth. All of this happened the previous night, before she built her first fire.

Having never used tinder herself, she realized too late that she used far too much on this, her second night. As she fluffed the tinder beneath her tower of twigs, she grabbed the flint and steel she had found in another chest—the one with the guns.

When she found the muskets, Rey had been too afraid to even touch them. Aside from the passing regiments, Rey never once encountered such a weapon. Their long, slender bodies sat on a thick bed of pale gauze, and upon careful removal of the contents, she found small, round balls of metal and thin flintlocks. Pieces of steel rested on the other side of the case. _To protect the wood from caching fire_ , she rationalized.

Rey used the flint and steel to light the tinder in a nest of rocks, blowing softly into its base to bring it to life. A frigid wind swept over the sand, spanning gooseflesh over her arms, but she forced herself to remain content with the smaller flame. The more she conserved, the longer she would last. As she sat on the beach, the moon appeared silently from around the trees. The night was not yet upon her, as the sky was still pale blue and the horizon blushing pink. In the fourth crate, Rey found enough rations to last several weeks. She did not touch the salted pork, reaching instead for a smaller loaf of bread. It was tough and bland, but felt good evaporating on her tongue. After a few swallows, the burning reminder of thirst scraped painfully through her neck.

Rey knew she would die without fresh water. As she dug the graves that morning, sweat pouring from her head and collar, the choking hold on her throat reminded her of the real threat at hand. As she stroked the small fire, she recalled the chorus of animals deep within the forest—frogs. If she remembered the stories, frogs lived by freshwater.

The idea was simple. So simple that Rey felt no need to wait until the next day. Dehydration could find her in the night, and she preferred looking for water rather than dying without it. Taking a long, thin log from the nearby brush, Rey wrapped some of her kindling from the tip to the middle, tying it with a small amount of twine, and gently stirred it into the fiery brew. Almost as quickly as she had begun, the log became a torch.

Rising, Rey turned to the forest, torch in hand. The trees elongated in shadow, becoming a gaping maw of darkness. In her two days on the island, she had only traced the nearby shore, making camp and sorting what little rations she had. And, with wide eyes, Rey realized she knew nothing about the green beyond the sand.

But a dry swallow pushed her forward—her small light guiding the way.

α

Ren noticed the pink of the sky above him. Sundown was near. The pack would normally hunt at this hour, in the cool of dusk, but the earlier feeding spurned their hunger for the sake of his investigation. He huffed with satisfaction at the thought. Carefully, he skulked through the brush closer the river. The splashing of water against rock led him downstream; westward.

He padded close to the shoreline, paws scuffing river rocks and kicking up potential scents. If the disturbance on the island was a living creature, they would have to come to the river to drink—the lake was on the other side of the island, far beyond even his keen senses.

Just as he had predicted, a foreign aroma drifted on the breeze, soft and light and full of life.

Heart pounding with his tracking instincts, Ren continued at a quicker pace, following the scent as it grew stronger and stronger.

He was closing in.

α

The bugs were the most noticeable nuisance about the forest, Rey found, and held no reservations toward fire. Rey did not need the light as much as she would when the shadows completely overcame the soft glow in the woodland, so she held it away from her body in an effort to lure them away. The rest of the work was done by her swatting.

She walked for some time, yet the sun still did not set. The trees, tall and skinny, drifted in and out of each other like a dance. It was peaceful, but an ominous chill descended upon her. The corners of her vision were already growing dark. Water… She needed water...

A chorus of life resounded in her ears. Louder, louder, louder still. Water could not be far ahead. Her throat burned at the thought, and it took control to keep from running to it. As she fought her instinct to run, she had a sudden thought that fixed her heart in place.

Maybe she would find nothing there. Nothing…

_“Orphans don’ hafta’ beg. Adults will lookatcha’ and pityya’ and giveya’ whateverya’ need. Just sit down and look like ya’ need it.”_

_Rey listened and sat, withdrawing her arms into the body of her chemise to keep her from the cold. The boy sat next to her, looked at her, and shoved his elbow into her side. “Oi. Hold out your hands and put down yer head. Like this.” He cupped his gloved hands and shoved his nose between his legs, holding out his palms._

_Hesitantly, she outstretched her arms, burying her head as he had. She saw nothing, but heard the bustling footsteps of the London townspeople. Nothing happened for a long while—her fingertips were stiff from the cold, nose dripping from the heat of her own breath. Waiting. Waiting._

_Suddenly, something small pressed into her palm. Her hands closed briefly around fleeting gloves, and she looked up and into nothing but legs. Then, the coin._

_It was small, but enough for bread. Turning to the boy, she looked into his palms. There was nothing. Licking chapped lips, she prodded his arm. “I got something. Let’s go buy food. Oi.”_

_He lifted his head to glare at her pinched fingers. Frowning, he snatched the coin from her frozen grip and stood._

_Rey looked up at him in horror. “That’s… that’s mine!”_

_“Finders keepers, runt,” he spat. “Ya’ don’t deserve nuthin’, understand!?” He kicked at her side, and she clutched her flesh as his blow spurted heat into her gut. “I waited longer—it’s mine!”_

_All she could manage was a retreat into herself as he ran off, her gift in his hands. Snow fell while people did nothing. Her hands were cold and completely devoid of everything._

_Everything and nothing…_

It was the sudden silence of every sound that woke Rey from her uncertainties and into a moment of concern. Steadily, she continued in the same direction, until an unmistakable clamor rippled and spat into the dusk.

“Water,” she rasped, unable to hold herself back from scrambling over the ridge and down to the small river below. She kneeled at the brink for a moment, sticking the torch in the mud and staring into the water. It was clear and rippling black. _Seems safe enough._ She had seen worse. Shoving both hands into the water, Rey gasped at the chill and moaned at the sensation as it slid, pure and soft, down her throat. Relief washed over her as she passed mouthful after mouthful through dry lips.

As soon as she felt satisfied, she lifted a wet hand to her sweating forehead. The forest was less breezy than the ocean, where the waves brought in the wind to stifle the heat. Perhaps, if she was still there when winter came—

A twig snapped.

Alert, Rey looked towards the sound, and froze.

On the other side of the river, only several armlength’s away, a wolf crouched and watched her.

Thoughts spun through her mind to the brink of collapse. Never before had she considered the possibility that she was not alone on the island. The silence of the wildlife before she came upon the river suddenly made sense.

They were afraid.

So was she, but she couldn’t let herself think about that now. The wolf did not move, only stared at her, as if its stillness would make it disappear from view. From what Rey remembered about dogs, those who ran from them were bound to be chased. Remaining still was her best option. Not challenging it, the second. She looked away from its black, menacing eyes, staring at the pale ginger fur on its chest, instead. Then, she waited.

After several minutes of sweat pouring down the sides of her face and forcing slow breaths in and out of her nose, the wolf slowly retreated into the shadows, watching her as it backed itself behind the trees.

Without hesitation, Rey snatched the torch and turned back to the ridge she’d so hastily slid down. It was a steep incline, but she had plenty climbing experience. Sticking the torch between her teeth, she began her upward trek. She was halfway to the top when the peaceful riverbed was disturbed by something big… and fast.

Gripping the long grass, Rey turned her head slowly to look.

Three wolves splashed into the shallows, wading towards her. At the head was the one who had stared her down moments before. Swearing, Rey turned and scrambled over the lip of the ridge, clawing her way through the dirt. She suddenly remembered the last option the street hounds would offer their target, after they already began the chase…

Run.

Rey did not know what to do or where to go. If she ran to the beach, they would corner her on the open sand. It wouldn’t be long before they escaped the water and followed her over the crest of the hill.

She was as good as dead. She knew it. There would be no escape after this. All she could do was run.

Run, like she always did.

α

Now the sky was black, and the scent was stronger than before. The smell of fear wafted through his nose, but it was far from the familiar fear of prey. This was primal… foreign… _invasive_. It filled all of him—made his fur stand on end.

As he traced it to the source, another scent came. Many.  His eyes widened in surprise, and trailed to the other side of the river. His plan had gone awry—investigation interrupted by that damned beta male. Growling, he thrusted his paws into the water.

He would have to handle this himself.

α

Rey’s legs pumped as fast as they could. The light of the torch was growing brighter as the darkness finally settled in, but it was not enough to help her see everything clearly. Many times she would look behind her, expecting fangs to gleam threateningly in the night, but saw only shadows. Heart racing, she kept running.

Thinking fast, she held up her torch to find low-hanging branches. Perhaps climbing a tree would keep her safe. At least, for the night.

Most of the branches were out of reach, but the idea was the most preferable. She never stopped to carefully inspect them, more concerned with keeping her feet moving and ears open. The fire already ate its way through the kindling, and was beginning to char the log.

Suddenly, a piercing howl broke through the night, echoing through the trees. It was uncomfortably close, and she stopped. It was too late to keep running. She had to find a tree. Now. More howls joined in a haunting chorus, growing closer and fanning wider. Were they surrounding her?

Whatever the case, Rey exhaled in a heavy mix of exhaustion and relief, for she came upon a tree with a branch hanging just above her head. Shoving the torch in her mouth, she leaped and wrapped both arms around the rough bark, then—with effort—her legs, crying out softly as the limb bent dangerously under her weight. All of her extremities were quaking so tremendously that her heels slipped over themselves, unable to give her proper purchase. The branch bent further; her head drifted closer to the ground.

She was still upside down when the air began to shift with the sound of bodies, lithe and fast, that came from the same direction she had. Numbness flooded her from neck to fingertips, threatening to make her fall back to the earth below, but, with a continuous cry of effort, she growled her way to the top of the branch and shimmied to the trunk.

There was another branch now, she noticed, just above her. She sat, panting, with legs wrapped around the body and torch tasting like ash in her mouth. The stampede grew closer and closer, and finally, the first wolf emerged.

It was one of the white wolves—eyes gleaming and glittering black. Immediately noticing her, the wolf ran towards the tree, bracing its front paws against the trunk a mere breath away from her toes. Panicking, Rey snatched the torch from her mouth and swiped down at the nipping animal, attempting to scare it off or, better yet, set its very pelt aflame. The wolf fleetingly attempted to avoid it before leaping away from the tree and circling beneath her.

Rey’s heart was in her throat, blood pounding so loudly in her ears she thought her skin may burst. Grunting with the pain careening through her arms, legs, and gut, she carefully braced her feet beneath her, eyes on the bigger, stronger branch above. She could be safe from the wolf, if she could only get higher…

Just as she gradually managed to stand on the thin branch, Rey looked down just in time to see the wolf lock eyes with her. Now that the light in her hands was far from its face, its eyes were nothing more than the empty sockets of a skull—smiling gruesomely at her in the night.

Then, it howled.

It was a long, penetrating cry, which ruffled the leaves and shivered Rey’s jaw to the point of clacking teeth. This was undoubtedly an alarm—one she should heed. Without time to waste, Rey focused on the branch before her, and leaped into it. The thicker limb collided with her ribs, sending a crack splintering in her ear and knocking the breath from her body. Yet, her arms awakened once more to wind around the bark like vines. Using her legs, she pushed off the trunk and settled carefully onto the branch, straddling it and lying down to disperse her weight.

More wolves arrived to circle below her, but it was still too dark to see them clearly. She wondered how many of them there were, and knew she needed to see. Taking the torch, she slowly offered it to the ground. They began to come slowly into view, when one of the wolves—the one from the river, she realized—suddenly jumped and clamped onto it with mighty jaws.

Crying out in shock and fear, Rey’s arm began to follow the heavy weight of the wolf’s pulling before she finally let go. Pain ripped through her shoulder and back like lightning.

It all happened so fast—how could she be so foolish!? Now her arm felt like dead weight. Every movement was fire.

The wolves barked and chuffed at one another below as Rey’s mind slowly went blank. Finally allowing herself to rest on the branch, she stared down and watched half-heartedly as the wolves tried leaping to nip at her dangling fingers. Though they would never reach it, she still gave no effort to take that to heart.

Something in her faded, dying like the torch in the grass.

As her mind began to cloud, she almost did not hear the low, guttural howl echoing from the deep woods. It crawled along the ground and evaporated like water into the air, calling all to attention. The wolves halted their circling and obeyed, padding through the trees and disappearing into the shadows. The river wolf, whose once bright pelt now bled like a wound in the night, turned and looked straight into her eyes. She stared back in frightful amazement. There was something in it, she realized… something _more_.

And then she was alone.

The moon sat high in the sky when the tears finally came. What she was crying for, she did not know. Perhaps it was the attack. Perhaps it was the water she lost in the chase. Perhaps it was the dead bodies in the ship or waking up alone on the beach or the little boy who stole from her and oh _God_ , how could she ever hope to survive…?

The torchlight still burned on the ground like a distant star. But, with a sharp _snap_ , that star grew far too close far too fast.

Rey was on the ground before she realized that the branch had broken beneath her, and that the aching in her shoulder had been subsiding before the fall. She could not see the bruises or scrapes, but she could feel them all over her body. Rising as quickly as she could, Rey swiped the torch from the dirt with her good hand, using the other to hold her body together.

If she was smart, she would have found another tree. But the songs of the night creatures played softly through the night, reassuring her that all was well for the moment. Holding the torch before her, she turned to look around for the direction of the beach.

Everything was black and dim with fire, and Rey had no idea where she was or which direction she needed to go. Sighing, she knelt and took one of the splintered logs of the branch, holding it against the dying torch until the flame caught and spread. The new fire burned brighter, battling the moon for illumination.

Trusting her instincts, she pushed forward in the opposite direction of where she last saw the wolves. The guns in the crate flashed in her mind, as did memories of regiment loading practices and the gawking of dirty children through locked gates. Naturally, she rationalized that the next best thing she could do would be to grab one and teach herself how to blow all their bloody heads off.

She panted softly as she walked. The night was calm now. Muggy. Bugs flew in small schools, whirring through the air like snow in the most undesirable spots. Though tired, Rey kept her senses sharp. If any more predators decided to come, she knew she would have to run again. Her body may not have been able to handle it, but the thought of the beach and the cool breeze of the sea filled her with a sudden anger—a desire to press on and see it again.

Rey wandered through the woods as her torch slowly waned. The bark itself was pliable, but burned more slowly than the log she’d found by the beach. She was contemplating returning to the forest for this supply, in the daytime and with a weapon, before the static whirring of wildlife suddenly fell silent.

She recognized the sign and wasted no time in rushing forward. The land here was flat, but with small rises every few dozen paces. This was the same pattern as the land near the beach—she must have been close.

Suddenly, a shadow glided into the clearing, stopping in front of her. Rey halted in surprise. Lifting her torch to see, her eyes widened and her heart froze.

A wolf, with fur as black as pitch, stood and stared at her with a twitching nose and wide eyes. For a hot, silent second, neither of them moved. The world around them was quiet save for her heartbeat thundering in her ears and…

… waves.

Ocean waves. On her right. The beach could not be too far away _. The guns_.

This wolf did not seem aggressive, at least, not in that moment. Its eyes were bright yellow, shining in the light of her torch. Slowly, he creeped towards her, ears perked and fur raised. Rey’s chest heaved as she swallowed fear, hard and thick, down her throat. Before it could get to close, she waved her torch about, trailing fire through the night and threatening it with sparks.

The wolf winced and shrank back, curling its lip in a snarl. Feeling confident, Rey widened her eyes and showed her teeth, as well. She waved the torch faster, advancing on the lone wolf.

It continued to move backwards, slowly, and Rey began to growl and roar threateningly, standing on the balls of her feet to appear bigger—as she heard tell most wild men did to fight predators. It seemed to be working, as the wolf eventually stopped snarling and settled for a low growl.

All the while, its eyes never left her face. Rey’s blood thrummed with nervous excitement, and she continued to roar.

Then, it… _sat_.

Rey halted as soon as it did, staring down at the wolf in disbelief. It simply _sat_ and _watched_ her, ears flat and fur bristling.

She swallowed and lowered her torch, just as the wolf stood once more and rushed her.

Surprised by the sudden shift in behavior, Rey’s reaction time was slow. She threw herself to the side just in time to avoid the collision from its large body. Still holding the torch, Rey held it out defensively while the wolf circled back towards her.

Despite its dark fur, Rey found it easy to track its eyes in the darkness. She swiped at it again. The wolf ducked her blows but did not advance. Remembering the beach, Rey began backing towards the direction of the waves.

The wolf jumped to the side, snapping at her torch, as the other wolf had. As they fought, Rey realized that this wolf was much larger than the others—its fangs sharper. She continued to back up through the trees, until the sound of waves grew louder and louder, and… faster…

It was when her feet tapped on solid ground that Rey realized she was not hearing the ebb and flow of ocean waves, but the rumble of a river. Daring a glance behind her, Rey gasped with horror as she neared the edge of a cliff that overlooked the ocean, where water spilled over the brink with a threatening roar.

She turned back to the wolf. Slowly, slowly, it stalked towards her, pushing her close to the edge. A waterfall thundered behind her, a wolf snarled before her, and the moon watched in silence.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A story like this is what happens when you read "My Side of the Mountain" and "Julie of the Wolves" for a Final Project, and a two-week wait for an update is what happens when an author is dumb enough to post right before finals. I'm sorry about that.
> 
> I would like to thank Umbreon_ly for being the best dark-type Pokémon this side of Johto. Your review ironically restored my faith in cyber humanity.
> 
> Thank you to all who have read and supported me with your kudos and comments, and those who will continue to do so. Your patience, I hope, has been rewarded.
> 
> *hugs*
> 
> -Avi


	3. Trapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey defeats the mysterious black wolf, leaving it scarred and beaten; Ren is overtaken by his pack and left at the mercy of his prey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who have followed me this far. This is looking to be a busy summer for me, but if all goes well this story shall be completed before the release of The Last Jedi.

_“Hmmm… What you’ve brought me today is worth… One-quarter ration.”_

_She looked up at the bulbous Beetle, folding her chapped lips. The station air was cold and thin, and a stranger impatiently prodded his knees against her back. Holding back her fury, the young woman dared reply, “B-But… last time it was worth a half—”_

_“You can take the gruel and be grateful, girl, or I can take your wages and sleep comfortably knowing you have nowhere else to go.” Pouring slop into a wooden bowl, he thrust it out to her hands and bellowed, “Next!”_

_Shuffling to the nearest table with a glare, she sat and buried her face in the steam before burrowing a finger and bringing the tasteless gruel to her lips. The bowl was empty within the minute, and she stuck her nose inside to polish the remains. When she came out, a constable stared down at her with a raised brow. It was time to leave._

_Pulling her sleeves over her knuckles, Rey ventured out into the cold. Snow swirled around her, guiding her into a nearby alley nearly devoid of wind. In the corner of the brick buildings, she crouched and sat on the stone, sucking the leftover gruel from beneath her nails. As she huddled inside of herself, a small, deft mewling sounded from the ruffage. She watched as none other than a kitten waddled from the filth, kicking at a link of netting that had wrapped around its hind paw._

_Unable to restrain herself, Rey cooed and reached for the helpless thing, pulling it close to her and unwinding the thread. The kitten’s meowing warmed her heart, while its rapid heartbeat warmed her frigid hands. Smiling, she rubbed her nose against its raspberry muzzle. “Hello. Where did you come from…?”_

_The kitten, of course, did not respond, instead stretching its little paws and looking about. “Nowhere, huh? Me too…” She thumbed over its scalp affectionately, smiling at its innocent face, feeling a little less alone._

_For weeks, she kept the kitten, feeding it whatever she could find. It was when winter became spring her small semblance of peace was interrupted. A few men hassled her for loose change, and in the scuffle, the kitten leaped out of her pocket and scurried off—tail high with fright._

_Rey managed to escape the men before chasing after it. She called out among the carriages, paying no heed to the strange looks from passerby. For several minutes, she found nothing. Nothing, until…_

_… there was a small, motionless husk of orange fur in the gutter._

The waterfall roared violently behind her, swarming her head with noise to the point where thoughts became null. Silent.

The wolf continued to stalk her, snarling with its head bent low. The cliff was coming to a point now, the hard earth transforming into rock. She gasped as her foot briefly slipped off the edge, nearly sending her plummeting into the spray below. Grasping her bearings, Rey knew she had nowhere left to go. Desperation heating her blood, she violently thrust the torch back and forth in an effort to ward the wolf away, but it still persisted, drawing ever closer.

“Stay away from me!” she cried, bearing her teeth and roaring. The wolf did not back down, instead raising his hackles to strike. Rey waited, rooting her feet and preparing for whatever would happen next.

As soon as she halted in her furious swiping, choosing instead to hold her torch at the ready, the wolf charged her.

Time seemed to slow as the wolf approached. Heart stilling in her chest, Rey twisted her body towards the rapids, lifting the torch and thrusting the fire into the wolf’s face. The overwhelming momentum of the wolf threw the wood from her hand and over the edge of the cliff, taking the light with it.

Moonlight ghosted over them as the wolf collapsed against the stone, barking in pain. Rey backed away from it, frozen. Every fiber of her being told her to run, but she knew the wolf would only chase her. But the waterfall…

To jump over the edge herself would be mad, but… the wolf was closer.

It seemed too distracted by its burn to even notice her, whining softly and pawing against its muzzle. If Rey could get to it without being bitten, or worse, she could be rid of her problem once and for all. The idea was tempting.

But, before she could make a move, the wolf looked up at her.

Its eyes glowed in the moonlight, and the smoldering embers of the fire streaked over the side of its face, burning in the night like a brand. It glared at her, studied her, but there was something deeper in those eyes—just like the River Wolf—that made her hesitate.

Rey did not move in the face of it; the wolf did not move as it watched her—all was silent but the rumble of the waterfall. Then, as though it had never existed, the wolf turned from her and skulked off into the trees.

Rey stared after it, risking no movement but the tremors of terror and excitement rippling through her body. With her torch gone, but the clearing exposed by the stars and blue of moon, her vision blurred with tears of relief.

She remained by the water’s edge until daybreak came over the horizon. From the edge of the cliff, she could see the beach cresting against the ocean, like a midwife greeting a babe from its mother’s womb, as the sun arrived in all its glory.

Lifting herself to her aching legs, Rey picked her way carefully back to the beach, where her supplies waited for her. Almost immediately after tearing the gauze and wrapping it around her wounded hands and arms, she went towards the gun stash, pulling out the many bullets and gunpowder.

They were common muskets—she had witnessed their use by soldiers and farmers alike. _With practice, firing them would be easier than not_ , she rationalized. Loading the powder and stuffing the bullet, Rey approached the broadside of the sail-stripped _Jakku._ Taking the kneel, she widened her eyes, focusing on one of the several, now dried, mollusks attached to the boards. With a deep breath and puffed cheeks, she pulled the trigger.

The flint struck quickly, and the power of the blast sent her reeling back into the sand. But, when she looked up to check her accuracy, she was rewarded with a small hole a body’s length from the mollusk she had been aiming for.

She sighed. “Much more practice.”

α

The others noticed his wound, sniffing his fur and growling at the trace of ash and flesh. He stood and took it, letting them stew in their worry. His thoughts were elsewhere.

A human. A human _woman_. Her scent lingered in his muzzle, hot and throbbing with the memory of her fear and will. Such a scent would not come from a member of a human pack. She was alone.

Pacing back and forth at the cave entrance, Ren almost did not register the approach of the beta until his ruffled fur bristled beneath his very nose. Growling threateningly, Ren reared his head and snapped at the other wolf’s ear.

Huffing, the beta skirted away, slowly circling his alpha. The challenge in his growl was unmistakable, but Ren was far too preoccupied with his newest revelations to pay it heed. The beta was a coward, too afraid to take any strike.

But it was when Ren remembered that the beta chased off his prey that he decided to teach him a lesson.

α

Two days passed since the chase where Rey practiced her shooting sparingly. She could not afford to waste any more bullets, so instead preoccupied herself with sorting her rations and gathering logs and sticks from the forest border. Of the eight crates two barrels. Rey transferred the salted pork from one to the other, covering its overflow with sail and binding it with twine. Taking the empty barrel and its cap, Rey grabbed her gun and rolled the barrel to a closer bend of the river.

She managed to reel the container back to camp with half of its contents remaining. Using her hands to drink and wash away the filth of the island that ocean water couldn’t erase, Rey sighed in relief that freshwater was not too far from her reach. With her musket strapped to her back, Rey made several small trips into the woods to map out the surrounding area.

On this day, Rey took several long strands of rope and twine she had fashioned into traps. The evening before, she saw a large hare leap out and back into the undergrowth. The idea of eating anything but pork, biscuits and oats, the thought of fresh meat, made her mouth water.

Feeling hydrated and refreshed, with wounds becoming scrapes beneath her bandages, Rey prowled the dawn of the forest. Light fog and mist from the fallen dew rose sleepily from the ground, covering the traps Rey set. Keeping them close to the river, Rey smiled at herself as she held the last length of rope. With her traps this close to the water, the likelihood of catching prey was doubled—and so was her survival. 

She was about to leave for her next destination when the early calling of birds fell silent. Sensing the familiar shift in the air, Rey glanced quickly in all directions. “Wolves,” she whispered, racing towards a nearby tree. By mapping out the forest by the river, Rey memorized the best trees to climb. And, not wanting to risk remaining on the ground, she leaped into the thick, forked branch of the nearest one.

As Rey wiggled further onto the tree, she wrapped her rope around her waist and took her musket from her back, preparing to fire. The forest stayed silent, until the stampede of paws from the distant fog gave precedence to the mass of white wolves.

The pack was moving at a slow and steady pace, giving Rey enough time to notice the familiar form of the black wolf at its front. _The leader?_ She realized. Training her gun in light of her discovery, she followed its trek with a determined glare. Though she was resolved to put a bullet through its pelt, she could not ignore the sleek, powerful movements of its body as it glided through the trees.

As she was distracted, she had no time to shoot before its hind paw snagged in one of her traps, halting it in its tracks.

The pack stopped and waited around it, panting and swishing their brilliant white tails. A darker tail flicked among them, revealing the ginger pelt of the River Wolf. It stalked through the crowd, watching as the black wolf, the alpha, struggled with its binds. Rey observed as the smaller, rusted wolf came closer and the crowding pack backed away to watch with her.

Her traps were meant for smaller prey, and was not strong enough to lift the wolf’s body into the air. Rather, its paw hovered in the air, suspended as it bit at the thin twine to no effect. The River Wolf approached, almost haughtily, and began to growl. The alpha snarled, snapping its jaws threateningly at the other wolf. Spittle flew through the air, then… bodies.

The barking and vicious growls of the two wolves echoed through the hushed forest, and Rey pointed her gun at them. If she could kill two with one shot each, she would be better off—but, if she waited for one to kill the other, she wouldn’t have to waste a bullet. So, she watched and waited with baited breath.

Orange fur flew into the air as the alpha caught its mane in its jaws, tearing at the flesh beneath before the beta escaped. They began wrestling muzzles to gain control over the others’ neck, snarling and snapping while the other wolves howled softly on and off, watching them. Encouraging them. At one moment, the black wolf’s paws were over the other’s shoulders, jaws bearing down. The next, the paler animal shoved it off its back and sprawling in the dust.

The black wolf, now more tangled in the trap than before, used its free paws to hold its attacker at bay, bearing its fangs more prominently than before. Rey gasped at the sight of blood oozing from its jaws, and the alpha’s ears pricked towards her. It looked at her, almost in shock, before the other wolf glowered over it and howled triumphantly. The black wolf managed a snap at its legs, but was not quick enough. Soon, the white wolves swarmed it, burying its body with a mangle of teeth, claws and fur.

Rey watched all of this in fascination; a display of dominance… and overtaking of power. The black wolf had become the victim of a mutiny, laying below the tussle and still fighting _back_.

As soon as it began, the battle ended, and the wolves separated from the hoard with smiling pants. The ginger wolf’s smile, to Rey, seemed the biggest of all, as it lapped its enemy’s blood from its chops. Leading the rest of the pack back where they came with a sharp, menacing howl, the River Wolf sped into the fog, leaving the distorted body of their alpha behind.

Not normally one to give in to pity, that’s exactly what Rey did as she lowered herself from the tree and stalked closer to the wolf, musket raised. The wolf did not move—its body was still and once sleek coat ruined.

Crouching out of its reach, Rey studied the creature. Its wound from the night before last was fresh and red, parted from lost fur and most definitely emblazed as a scar. The bites and scratches all over its body left its fur in tufts, but from a distance it would appear unscathed.

Rey clenched her jaw thoughtfully, studying her trap and the wolf caught inside. “You know, you looked like more of a fighter to me,” she muttered. Some part of her was disappointed, but the rest of her considered the best ways to fashion a pelt of wolf hide without a knife. “You do look like a warm fur coat, though.”

Her talking seemed to have no effect on the wolf, but as she spoke and studied it, she noticed that the wolf was not only male, but still _breathing_.

At the sight of his chest rising and falling, a sudden feeling of dread came over her, taking control of her hands. Without thought, Rey yanked the rope from her waist and gathered each of the wolf’s paws, binding them together.

With the remaining length, she tugged the knots until they were tightly coiled, and dragged the wolf through the fog and back towards the beach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that Rey has captured the once-mighty alpha wolf, what will she do with him? What will he do to her if he escapes? I want to know what you think (to see how predictable I really am). See you next week~ *hugs*


	4. Ren, Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren reflects on his previous encounters with the human girl; Rey struggles to decide how to deal with the dying wolf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy one-month anniversary since the first chapter~ I would like to take this time to thank and reward my readers with shameless Ren time. You've earned it!

_The scent of her fear swirled around him, and the once still night air awakened with revelation. His search was over—his ignorance shamed._

_A human girl— young, malnourished… Alone. The salt of the sea lingered on her, the moon dancing above her like a halo. She held a torch in her hand as she stood, frozen in the hot, thick air between them._

_Astonished, Ren did not move to strike, instead lowering his head to study her, to show her his eyes. He trained them on hers, watching, waiting for her to run, as her pounding heart commanded her legs to do. He knew this look, as it was common amongst his prey. Yet, she was not prey. He sensed it… she was something more._

_His nose twitched towards her, investigating. The sea was strong on her, but so too the fish of the river, the heat of the coastal sands._

_Careful not to frighten her, he came closer, head bent low and eyes trained on her. She was small for a woman; her legs were trembling—no doubt at the sight of him. He knew he was much bigger than the average wolf. His fur prickled as she lifted her torch between them. Most likely in defense—but his instincts shuddered his hide at the thought of fire._

_Ren’s ears perked as a sudden resolve thickened in her blood. She was going to strike him._

_She swung the fire back and forth in front of him; a threat. A warning snarl echoed from him as he backed away. He was not with hunting intension, but the wild in him detested the fire. The girl’s ignorance of his innocent investigation became overconfidence, as she bearded her teeth and snarled back at him, advancing with her flame._

_Ren acquiesced her advancement, watching with a warning growl as she stood taller—as he backed away. Staring into her eyes, his mind raced to his paws and back. This girl… her bravery was admirable. Her attention focused and unresisting. As she came closer to him, backing them further into the trees, he could smell the beta male on her. Impatient with her impertinent fire, Ren sat._

_As soon as she did, she stopped. As was his prediction. He flattened his ears irritably._ Are you quite done? _He bristled._

_She lowered her torch and stared at him in confusion. He saw her face better this way—glistening in the moonlight, flesh soft and inviting to sharp teeth. The hair on the back of her neck flattened in distraction. His opportunity to strike was perfect—all of her was exposed to him. Instinct swelled in his body, blooming hot and tempestuous. He pushed it down. He could not eat this girl—she was too rare._

_So he would take her, instead._

_Standing quickly, Ren barreled towards her, jaws outstretched to take the cloth of her chemise. She was too quick, however, and her reflexes only enticed him more. Her torch in hand, she held it out against him again in defense. Keeping a careful eye on her, Ren padded broadly beneath the shadow of the trees. She swiped again—too close to his fur. His ear nearly singed beneath the blaze. He would have to be rid of that bothersome flame if he was to take her without struggle. Bearing his fangs to distract her, he snapped at the wood. She dodged his careful strike, backing further into the trees—towards the waterfall._

_An idea gleamed in her eyes, and his own followed. Her fear betrayed her—she did not know this land. Did not know_ his _island. He chased her slowly into the clearing, the smell of spray misting in the wind. When she had come far enough to realize she was trapped, Ren shuddered with anticipation. He snarled in delight as realization dawned upon her that victory was his._ _He was no longer afraid of her puny flame and its dwindling light. Her heartbeat thundered louder than the waterfall, drawing him closer._

_“Stay away from me!” the girl shrieked, attempting to threaten him with her small fangs. The time was now. Rising to his hackles, Ren carefully measured the best place to grab her—without the torch between them—as to not break through her skin. He would have to purge that light from her, leave her defenseless against the night._

_The idea of thrusting her into darkness filled his veins with myrrh, and as soon as the torch lowered from her face, he lunged._

_Her speed bested his, and, to his shock, a searing pain streaked over his muzzle and across his brow. Barking in agony, he fell to the dust, pawing at his fur to alleviate the scorch. The fire was put out into the dirt, but the sharp sting remained, spreading like vines and curling tendrils of discomfort under his skin. His claws scrambled against the river stones, vision flashing as stars danced in his vision._

_The memory that he was not alone roused him quickly. Shaking the stars away, he sniffed the air for her. She was still there with him—watching. He could smell mal-intent seeping from her, oozing in temptation. The ash and smoke were gone; the torch must have fallen over the edge. The darkness was his, and she was trapped in it with him now. A shallow victory called to him, demanding he claim his reward, but all that raced through his mind was the pain and the overwhelming need to look upon the girl who devastated his face._

_When he found the strength to look at her, she was frozen. Something in her fear iced over his pain, and the urge to devour shuddered in his paws. It would be so easy… so simple… the night was his domain. They were alone. He could take her life—here and now, just as she was about to take his._

_Yet, the memories of a time before kept him at bay. With great effort, he turned away from her face, from the sweet scent of her frightened lifeblood, and resentfully stalked off into the trees._

_For the rest of the night he forced himself to run. He ran, ran—away from_ her _._

α

He arrived early the next morning at the cave entrance, unconsciously pacing in thought. _A human… A human is on the island…_

Silver fur crested over the rocks, and the lithe body of the female padded toward him. Drawing near, she noticed his wound almost immediately. She was a very perceptive wolf.

Ren growled when she came too close. _Know your place._

She lowered her head, but watched him still. Her tail twitched in silent questioning, but Ren turned away from her, huffing indignantly.

As dawn arrived, the wolves inched out, one by one, into the light. The scent of ash in their fur bristled Ren’s mane, and a great fury strangled from his throat. Taking the nearest wolf in his jaws, he thrust its body to the ground and snarled over it. The wolf, ashamed, flattened its ears and pitifully pawed Ren’s chest.

Ren, feeling indifferent to its helpless whining, continued to mangle its throat until its barking became mute.

The other wolves watched in silence as the limp body fell from Ren’s bloody jaws. Though their paws did not betray them, Ren sensed the nervous twitching of their pulses. Rising from his kill, he glared at them. _Let that be a lesson to you all. You will not take what is_ mine _._

Satisfied and weary, Ren skulked into the cave, laying down to rest. They would bury the wolf in their own time. As punishment, no one would hunt tonight.

The beta approached him later. Ren, preoccupied with thought of the wound—now no more than an aching throb—barely noticed his presence. When he did, he ignored him… until he recalled the howl of the hunt from the night before.

Remembering the beta’s scent by the river that day, Ren snarled and snapped at the beta’s face, flattening his ears. _All strange occurrences on this island are to be reported to_ me, he warned. _That human is my prey. You had no right to hunt it._

The beta backed away, sitting and flattening his ears with a smug twitch in his tail. _You would have had a piece. You would have gotten what you want, eventually._

I _am leader of this pack!_ Ren barked. _No hunt shall commence without_ my _order._

Rising to his paws, the beta stalked challengingly toward Ren. _What leader would be scarred by such a weak human girl…?_

Pride boiling in his blood, Ren thrust himself against the beta’s shoulder, holding his head above his lieutenant. This position, one of dominance, allowed the wolf to hear Ren’s growl reverberate from his fangs. _For your sake,_ Ren snarled, _I suggest you get out of my sight._

The beta did not move for a long while, until his whine of submission freed him from Ren’s hold. Padding away with head bent low, the smaller wolf disappeared into the sunlight, leaving Ren to stew in his anger.

He was right—the great Ren had been bested by a lowly human girl… such insolence, on her part, would not be so easily forgiven. When the next opportunity came, he would not only take her, but make her pay for his wounded pride.

α

_Sir… The pack…_

Ren could hear the growling in their stomachs—the same echoed in his own. Rising to his paws, he stalked towards her, sniffing the air around them.

Dense morning fog slunk along the ground, masking the scent of prey. Whatever they were to hunt would be have to be done by sight. He glared at her. _What do you suggest,_ he chuffed.

She pointed her nose to the depths of the forest. _A scouting party?_ Ren blinked. It was not a bad idea. If she were to lead some of the pack into the deeper woods, and he alongside the river, they would have a greater chance of a successful hunt. He nodded, flicking his tail to send her off.

Soundlessly, a small band of wolves followed her into the undergrowth. The beta, eyes crusted from sleep, stood amongst the rest of the pack; waiting for commands. Ren padded up to them, chin high. The beta stared after him, and reluctantly took his flank.

The ground was sodden with dew, and the resting fog stirred around their bodies as they ran along the riverbank. Most prey animals were active in these early hours.

Mind focused entirely on finding prey, Ren searched the base of the trees with roving eyes. Their normally quickened pace was slowed by the invisible ground; their paws trotting along as morning birds fell silent.

A familiar scent fell into his nose just before a snake snagged around his hind paw.

Yelping, Ren was halted, leashed. It was not a snake, but a rope! _It’s a trap!_ One of the wolves whined. They gathered feebly around him, waiting as Ren took the rope in his jaws, sawing and tearing. The material was too thin and strong to tear it away—slipping between his teeth.

Her scent was all over it, filling his muzzle and blinding him with rage and frustration until it was no longer a rope, but the girl’s scrawny arm. He would get her for this, he resolved with a growl.

As he worked, the beta broke through the ranks to watch him. Flexing his claws in the dirt, the wolf approached Ren with contempt seeping from every strand of fur in his body. _Leader… do you need assistance?_ He taunted with a swish of his tail. _Are you helpless?_ He growled.

It was a challenge, then. Snarling, Ren snapped his jaws, revealing every fang suddenly ripe for wolf flesh. _To challenge your Alpha when trapped is an act of treason,_ he warned, glaring into his lieutenant’s eyes.

The beta prepared to pounce. _I don’t care._

Barking, the beta wolf suddenly jumped onto Ren’s body, pushing down with his paws and aiming his jaws for Ren’s neck. With his hind leg lifted into the air by the trap, Ren struggled to scramble above his opponent. Gaining the high ground would be impossible, but the right strikes in the right places, perhaps, would be enough to deter him until Ren could escape the rope. The two tussled in the damp fog, as Ren bellowed intimidation.

He would not have it—had no fear of a wounded, trapped alpha. When he came closer to strike, Ren reared and found brief purchase on the smaller wolf’s shoulders, bearing down to strike. The beta was fast and, full of adrenaline, found the strength to push Ren off of him. The binding around his leg aided in Ren’s topple and tangled him, forcing his back to the ground.

In seconds the beta was on top of him, and Ren had no choice but to push his paws against his enemy’s chest to keep his small, sharp teeth at bay. His own blood leaked from his lieutenant’s jaws, dripping into the black of his fur.

Suddenly, from above, a sound, not quite animal, gasped in Ren’s ear. Following it beyond the beta’s shoulder, he saw… _her_.

It was the girl, sitting in a tree, watching. Her eyes widened in shock and fear, but for what? A weapon, a gun, pointed towards them.

Perhaps she should have shot him. He wished she had as the beta howled triumphantly above him. Weak from the fight, Ren’s body became limp as the wolves swarmed him, all lunging for a piece. He looked at her, willing her to pull the trigger before she disappeared from view.

As their teeth sank into him, one by one, the scent of his own blood mingled with the fog. Even as they struck him, defiled him, his pack was all he thought about. Their hunts by the river; their battles. The years of watching the sun rise and feeling the wind in his fur. He remembered their scent—even when all he could smell was his own body dying slowly.

It was his fault. He knew it. It wasn’t their strength that made him fail. Not even the girl. It was his own weakness. His foolish desire to return to a life long gone.

The hands of darkness reached up from the earth, pulling him down… down… into the nothing.

α

Rey stared at the wolf. His large body filled slowly, and shuddered out with every exhale. A dream, perhaps? A nightmare?

Careful to watch for waking, Rey clamped his snout tightly, wrapping it in cloth  and tying twine to muzzle him and his sharp teeth. As she tied the final knot, she remembered dragging him back to the beach; the howling that echoed somewhere far in the distance. She had taken more rope upon reaching the beachfront, choosing to leash him to a nearby tree, as well.

Properly secured, Rey studied the wolf’s wounds. Bite marks were everywhere; his blood was leaking into the sand, turning it pink. When she’d brought him to the shade of the tree line, Rey touched his fur to inspect him. His blood had shined his inky coat, blending in until it was too late. Her hands soiled the rope.

When she was finished, she rinsed her hands in the ocean surf, standing up and placing her hands on her hips.

The morning offered much to process. The sun’s muggy heat began to creep over the horizon, warming her face and incubating her sweat. The wolf in the shade was still sleeping, she noticed, unknowing and uncaring about his situation. _Their_ situation. Folding her lips, she thought about what course of action to take.

She had a new source of meat—she could grab her gun and take her revenge. Wait for the beast to wake to a barrel between his eyes. She liked the idea, but…

Groaning in frustration, Rey wheeled around and stalked back towards him, grabbing her musket from the sand. Should she waste a bullet on a dying wolf? Let him sleep and bleed and wait for him to stop breathing?

She stood above him, panting. Her heart began to beat faster as the realization hit her: that whatever she did next would be irreversible. She wanted to look in his eyes. Wanted to see what she saw before, that _more_ inside of him.

Kneeling into the sand, she reached out and carefully grabbed the loose skin behind his head. He did not stir. She shook, a little less gently, out a low, barely audible growl.

He was waking up. “Oi! Oi, you mutt! Wake up!” she shouted.

Abruptly, the wolf’s eyes opened. His pupils contracted as they darted over to hers, and he began writhing violently beneath her grip.  Rey released her hold on him, backing away and sitting in the sand, far from his thrashing.

All he could do in his bondage was lift his head and lower it. He seemed to noticed his paws first, then, his muzzle. Rey watched, fascinated, as he repeatedly slammed his own nose against the ground to shake it off.

“It’s not coming off,” she said, interrupting his attempts, somewhat. He briefly continued to struggle, but eventually laid flat against the turf, glaring at her. Still. Feeling brave, Rey scooted closer. “You know, and I know,” she whispered, “that one of us is in control, yeah?”

She kept her voice soft and low, as not to agitate the animal. He did not seem to fear her, nor she him, but by the way he looked at her, she came to the logical conclusion that he was deciding how best to rip her flesh from her bones.

Unwrapping some of the bandage from her arm, Rey tore off a segment of gauze with her teeth. Moving gradually towards him, and the noticeably bleeding wound on his neck, she stretched out a hand. The wolf growled, and she hesitated. He continued to stare at her open hand, throat rumbling in displeasure. Deciding not to care, she cradled his skull in her fingers and held him down in the sand, using her knees to hold his body while she quickly bound him. He resisted at first, bucking underneath her and almost throwing her back into the sand, but she held on to his fur and pulled him threateningly to remind him what position he was in.

The wolf was a smart one, and ultimately allowed her to cover his wound. “I know you’re just a dumb dog,” she muttered, keeping her voice calm, “but… this will stop your bleeding, and keep you alive long enough for me to know what to do with you.”

As she finished, Rey looked back at the wolf’s face. It watched her, almost curiously, and did not move. Rising from his body, she looked down at the large creature laying helplessly at her feet before going back to her camp for more, cleaner bandages.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who may not have noticed an earlier response to a comment I posted, I would like to let you all know that this story is meant to be slow and drawn out, but laced with many surprises. Fear not, I have plans for you and the big reveal of human-form Ren. 
> 
> Though, while writing this note an interesting thought has come to mind. I know how the reveal will happen, but I would love to know what you are hoping for. Remember, you are my audience and, even if I may not act upon them, your requests are always taken into consideration. 
> 
> So let me know what you think, what you guess, and what you want. Until then~ *hugs*
> 
> -Avi


	5. Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and the wolf, having healed, are faced with a storm; The two are separated, and Rey's life hangs by a thread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the wait. I have been terribly stressed, but reading and re-reading your comments gives me strength. I love you. Enjoy.

The tide was beginning to rise, waves crashing more powerfully against the shore with each breath.

As the swell pushed its sparkling foam against the bottom of the ship, Rey began the toil of moving her supplies away from the shelter of its empty vestments. As she did, the wolf watched with perked ears—noosed to a tree.

Two days had passed since Rey captured the wolf, and its wounds healed substantially. After a while, he grew strong enough to wrestle from his minor binds, and hungry enough for her to wrestle away his muzzle and feed him what precious little she could. Luckily for her, the rope around his neck had yet to fray. Now, as she pushed the last crate into the safety of the tree line, wiping the sweat from her brow, he growled softly after her.

“Yeah, yeah, I know…” Rey grumbled, reaching for a slab of salted pork. She tossed it to the loose sand at his feet, watching indignantly as he snatched it up. He was licking his chops, staring at her for another, while her arms stung with strain. “No,” she huffed, “you _aren’t_ getting another one—unless you plan on helping me with all of _this_.” She gestured to the supplies, then sat next to him—out of reach, of course—and watched as the ocean slowly flooded the remains of the ship she had called home.

She sighed. After a while, she grabbed a stick and waved it in the wolf’s face, watching his brilliant golden eyes track its progress. “I’ve been thinking…” she muttered, enjoying his brief interest in her offering. She had been speaking to him more often, and, to her surprise, he actually seemed to listen. “…that I might use you as a hunting dog.”

As if in response, he huffed and laid down in the shade, facing the waves and panting through the heat. His gasping was hard-pressed, his large body pulsating underneath his fur.

“I’ve only ever had a pet once,” she murmured. “He couldn’t hunt. But as far as I know dogs are supposed to do that sort of thing.”

He huffed again, blowing sand into the breeze.

The sun was beginning to set, and, dragging out some kindling, Rey lit a small fire. The wolf seemed unfazed by it, even staring deep into the embers as the day waned. He had certainly altered over the course of his captivity, pacing less and resting more—all while watching her every move.

He had depleted her food source greatly. Now that she was feeding two, and her traps could only capture so much, there would be no surviving without a more skilled hunter. She looked at him. “I know you can’t understand me… but you have to understand that we’re stuck together now. For better or worse.”

As she spoke, she noticed a wind picking up around her body. It was stiff and ominous, and she followed it back to the sea. Over the waves, where the world seemed to curve, a cloud of green thundered and grew.

The wolf followed her gaze, whining softly and rising to his paws. He pulled against his noose, padding to the forest and rearing from the rope. Rey stood.

A storm. A storm was coming, choking out the daylight and thrusting them into grey. Taking the largest segment of sail she had left, she quickly covered her supplies, thrusting them against a tree and away from the wind.

The wolf barked at her, tugging once more against the rope. Looking at him and back to the oncoming torrent, she realized that he was trying to escape the storm. They were in the same boat, but… if she released him, tried to walk him like a mutt on a leash, what would stop him from turning on her?

Nothing. As the wind stirred loose strands of hair into her face, as the heat of the storm fell upon them, she watched as the wolf’s eyes glanced from her to the trees, as his whine became a menacing snarl, as his claws dug into the earth with the strain of his resistance.

“I’m such a fool,” she growled, reaching for an arrowhead she’d forged. Quickly, she went to the tree and pulled against the rope—his leash—cutting it from the trunk with one swift motion.

The wolf was faster than the lightning cracking over the ocean behind them, dragging Rey into the ever-darkening tree line. He seemed not to care about her, or her struggle to hold on, only pressing forward.

Swaying around them, the trees began to lose leaves to the wind. The heavens became a sickening green as clouds swarmed the skies, as heat and the promise of rain slunk into her stinging nose. The wolf was undoubtedly smelling it, too, as his pace picked up, leading her further into the forest.

This was a part of the island she had not yet mapped—far from the river and the beach. The trees here were thicker, the land uneven and rocky, the stench of carrion rising from the earth with every step they took.

The rain fell in sheets, soaking Rey to the bone after only a few seconds. The wolf was drenched as well, coat shimmering and dripping with every step. Still, they pressed on, even as the rope began to chafe her hand, burning the already tender skin.

She really was a fool. The gun strapped to her back, arrowhead tight in her grip, Rey realized that she was following a wolf into what, for all she knew, could be the den of white mongrels. Water trailed between her eye and nose, pooled over and under her lashes, blinded her alongside the darkness that fell around them. Eventually, all she could see was his tail and the lightning striking above the shadowy claws of the treetops. They had run together for a long time, yet the wolf did not tire. Rey was at the end of his rope now, struggling to hold on.

She was a dead woman. She knew it. If she let go, her last chance of survival would be gone. The torrent undoubtedly washed away her supplies, her traps would be buried in the river muck. If this wolf left, she would starve before her third sunrise.

All her hard work… all her waiting… for nothing.

Perhaps it was because her arm was already stretched too far ahead of her body, or perhaps it was the slickness of the wild grass, but whatever the case, her feet fell out from beneath her, sending her face-first into the sodden ground below. The rope escaped her grip. “No! No no no no _no!_ ”

Quickly rising, she sprinted ahead, ignoring the pain in her side, the sharp stabbing in her lungs, and watched the ground for a trailing cord. She could see nothing in the black, until a bolt of lightning illuminated the steep drop before her.

It was too late to stop—she was already falling. Down, down, down, tree branches clawed and scratched at her cheeks, pulling her hair. Covering her face with one arm and holding her musket with the other, Rey swore with every word in every tongue she knew, rolling and sliding over grass and rocks until she finally came to a crashing stop. Stars exploded all around her, bursting brightly and vanishing without so much as a goodbye. Hesitantly, when she was certain the fall was over, Rey let her arm fall to the ground, numb with the pain of her decent. Rain beat down against her face, clearing away the mud that smeared over her skin. Trying to slow her panicked breath, she looked up and into the stream. They looked like shooting stars.

Is this what she had come to? Was this how she would die? They whispered to her, louder and closer than the thunder’s roar could ever hope to be.

The thought wasn’t so bad, she realized. Dying. Her leg was dead. She felt at it with her hands, finding something hard blocking her fingers from reaching her knee. It was rough… bark. A tree.

Her leg had become wedged beneath a fallen log at what seemed to be the base of a ravine. The arrowhead was still in her other hand, likely the source of the sharp sting in her palm, and she only held it tighter. The musket dug into her back—the best pain she ever felt in her life. Desperation punched her in the chest, sending her body careening upwards with an outraged cry. She sat up, grabbing the other side of the tree for purchase, and stabbed at the bark. Several pieces broke away, but the body was so thick, she had no hope of escape before sunrise. Still, she struck over and over and over and over, screams snuffed by the lightning above.

The rain fell harder than before, sinking her body into the mud with every struggle. As it sank into her clothing, something inside of her burst—like the stars. It left her deflated and pulled her into its embrace, commanding her to be silent and feel the rain flood over her, pounding her skin in a shower of gunfire.

That wolf was probably long gone, as was her hope for survival. It didn’t matter if the sun rose the next day, or if she could escape from beneath her latest trap—there would only be another waiting for her. An empty beach. A pack of wolves waiting to tear her apart. A dead body in the hull of the ship. Another storm.

There would be no escape from this island. Letting that thought roil around in her mind, Rey let the sweet ambrosia of relief flood her veins. Head swimming in bliss, she reclined and let herself fade into the earth. This would be her resting place—the mud would bury her here. Perhaps a tree would grow from her corpse, ribs protecting the seeds until they, too, faded from existence. The tears fell so elegantly that she couldn’t tell them from the rain anymore.

Eons passed as her vision swam in black, and she even began to hallucinate, as the hungry and the dying tend to do. She saw the moon, full and bright, outstretching its hand in promise. The world spun around her. The black wolf looked down at her with his yellow eyes. Just the dream of him made her want to spit, but she lacked the will to try, and simply stared. The wolf faded to black—everything faded and all she wanted was to sleep and never wake again, to give into that embrace telling her not to be afraid. It was an angel’s voice, deep and soft, with beckoning tempting her into release. Who was she to deny it?

The last thing she felt was an enormous weight being lifted, her body rising into the air, as if an angel were finally carrying her away from her terrible nightmare.

Then, nothing.

α

Rey did wake… eventually. With an aching back and mud caked to her skin, she sat up slowly, hands bracing against wet stone.

After looking around, she let out a small gasp. She was in a cave. Its circular entrance gaped mere paces ahead, cloaked in morning fog. Her leg echoed with a dull pain, and, leaning against the wall of the cavern, she smoothed her hands over the skin, hissing at the tender touch. It was bruised and swollen, but, luckily, had received no open wounds. There was dried blood in her palm, on the outer edges of her arms and undoubtedly on her face, as well, but nothing substantial.

Her leg was too sore to stand, so she simply sat back against the stone, thinking. _Last night couldn’t have been a dream_ , she thought. Not with the hot fog creeping its way onto the cave floor, dissipating into thin tendrils as they lapped at her feet. The scent of storm filled the shallow cave, cold mixing with hot and tracing a shiver down her spine. And the leg, the scratches… it was certain. The night before was no dream.

A nightmare, perhaps, but she had been trapped beneath that log. Somehow, her body had been moved from her snare… unless, in a moment of feverish desperation she couldn’t remember, she had made it out alone. She preferred to leave it at that, smoothing the throbbing at the base of her head with dirty hands. Her hair, which had been tied back, fell in limp strands around her face. The mud itched her thighs and underarms, and she scratched at them thoughtlessly, fading in and out as the fog eased.

She should have died in that storm. If she had, the rumbling in her gut and the sharpening pain in her leg would be no more… The nightmare of the island, over. Her life, as fragile and uneventful as it was, had no qualm throwing her into tempest upon tempest—so what was stopping it from killing her now? What meaning was there to go on, when there was nothing to go on _to?_

It was boredom and a need for distraction that drove her away from these thoughts and out into the mist. The musket was still strapped to her back, but the arrowhead was missing.

She was at the base of the hill, she realized, noticing the fallen trunk just beyond the entrance. Unable to stand on both feet, Rey rose on one leg, gripping the rocky outcroppings, and hopped—slowly—to the light.

Eventually, she made it close enough to the log. Upon inspection, she found the slashes of her attempted escape, but no arrowhead. She swore loudly, enraged at the wasted time of making it. Moving on to the wood itself, Rey noticed several branches half-buried in the mud. Grabbing the nearest one with her good hand, she pulled until it snapped off.

She smiled triumphantly, for what little victory it was. The branch was nice and firm, bark peeled and smoothed by the storm, standing just taller than her. She felt along the beautiful staff, admiring its softness before placing it ahead of her—a new leg. Rising from the mire, she shifted forward, passing the cave and following the ravine to the East, where the beach waited.

It took the full day, with her pace greatly reduced, to reach what had once been her camp. The ship was not completely devastated by the storm, but was definitely uninhabitable now. Rey sighed. Though she knew there would be nothing to come back to, she still had to try, had to hold onto the slightest hope that she could keep _something_.

The sand was stiff, leaving footprints in sunset shadows behind her. Two feet and a walking stick. But, as she neared the hiding place of her supplies, her eyes widened.

Pawprints sat in the sand. One wolf, it looked like, disappearing into the grass.

Swallowing thickly, Rey made her way into the trees. The sail she had used to cover them was still there, though the rope had been moved and wrapped several times around a massive tree. Kneeling to inspect, she found no knot, yet the binding was tight—almost inescapable. She followed it to its ends, where the rope frayed into a familiar shape.

Rey stared in disbelief at the rope in her hand. It was the rope she had used to leash that wolf. “How…?” she whispered, searching the ground for tracks. There were none to be found. All traces of the wolf—gone.

Perhaps he really was a ghost. A hallucination dreamt up to fill the emptiness, a fantasy of something to help her survive until rescue came, until the idea of rescue became an afterthought. But no, everything she’d been through could not have been a dream… could it?

Rey decided to focus her attention on the supplies rather than the confusing thoughts filling her already crowded mind. Unraveling the damp sail, she found everything still in its place, even the freshwater barrel, which was now refilled. Lifting the lid from her food supply, she found it dry—for the most part. Her sigh of relief became a small laugh, as she let the staff fall and her body sink to the grass, arms wrapping around the vessel. She embraced every one of them, kissing the tops of their heads as she had seen many mothers do.

She spent the night under the stars, among her supplies, holding the sail close and sipping rainwater from the barrel, uncaring about the filth and relishing in the treasure around her. She toasted to the wolf, dream or no dream, and watched the sunlight break apart and become stars.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be more plot-important. *wink wink*


End file.
